Alone
by Dianora
Summary: Lisa and Rick share their pain -- and an impulsive moment.


"Alone" by Dianora  1/1

A Robotech Story

This story was written a few years ago - I just

recently discovered that Robotech fic is actually being 

published here (yay!) so I though I'd share some 

of my old stuff for those who may not have read it 

before.  This was the first one I did, it's just a 

small piece.  

These characters do not belong to me.  They 

belong to Tatsunoko, Harmony Gold and I have 

no idea who else.  No copyright infringement is

intended.

The events in this story take place during the two

years of Reconstruction during The Macross Saga,

not too long after the attack of the Grand Fleet in 

"Force of Arms."  You don't have to share my opinion

that Rick and Lisa's relationship progressed physically

during that time to enjoy the story.  I hope.  

Comments to Dianora2@earthlink.net.

Rick Hunter kissed me tonight.

Maybe that shouldn't be such a big deal, we've kissed before after 

all, but that had been under somewhat...unusual circumstances.  

Ordering the man to press his lips to mine while six lumbering giants 

made retching noises in the background was hardly the romantic 

moment of a lifetime.  I hadn't even been affected by it.  Not really.  

Well, not much.

Tonight was different.

He had come over to my place for dinner (*not* Chinese, thank you 

very much), and a late-night meeting.  We were going over some new 

flight schedules, shifting teams, rotating pilots, doing the best we 

could considering the enormous casualties we'd suffered during Dolza's

attack.  It was a morbid job, compensating for empty spaces, when 

each of those empty spaces had a name, a face, and a family behind it.  

It was especially rough on Rick, who had fought in the stars beside them, 

who had probably even had his life saved by more than one of them.

I'll say one thing about Rick Hunter: he's completely confused 95 percent 

of the time where his feelings are concerned, but when he does have any 

kind of a handle on his emotions whatsoever, he doesn't hesitate to share 

them with you.  I've always admired that about him, how he's not afraid

to let others see his pain.

Sometimes it's so much easier to just bury it down, deep, down where you 

can convince yourself that it's no longer eating away at your soul with 

every breath you take.

He started spilling his guts then, just talking and talking, telling me 

all about Lt. Johnson and Captain Nunez and Lt. Commander Ryan 

and countless others, and when I saw  tears begin to glint in his eyes 

I could feel mine watering up in sympathy, and I wished more

than anything that I could take his pain into myself so that I could bury it

for both of us, bury it down deep where we could pretend it didn't hurt 

anymore.  Down to where we could try to convince ourselves that it 

didn't matter, that we were still whole.

But dammit, his memories stirred up some of my own, and against my will I 

flashed back to that tomb in Alaska Base, when I sat among the corpses and

wondered how many minutes or hours or days would pass before I joined 

them.

Until Rick had swooped in like an angel from heaven and saved me, giving 

me the second chance that no one else at Alaska Base that day would 

ever have.

That's when I started bawling.  God, I was so humiliated, losing control in

front of him like that, but I couldn't help it, the tears started falling and then 

I was crying for all of them, for Lt. Johnson and Captain Nunez and for all those 

pilots I didn't even know, whom I had never even met face to face.

I cried for my father.

And when Rick took me in his arms and made nonsense shushing noises 

against my hair, urging me to stop crying, I didn't resist, didn't keep him

at arms' length the way I was usually so careful to do.  I let him hold me and 

tell me that everything was going to be all right, that we had survived, that 

the human race had survived, and that life went on and would keep on going.  

And I nodded against his shoulder and whispered, I know, as if I agreed with 

him, even though I wasn't sure I believed it.

It felt so good, the sensation of his arms around me.  Felt right.  Natural.

I don't think I've ever felt quite that way before, not even with Karl.  Especially 

not with Karl.  Karl Riber was all about high ideals and starry eyes and rose-

tinged dreams.

This -- this was about warm, strong flesh pressed against mine, sending 

unfamiliar tingles shooting up and down my spine, swirling in my abdomen.  

About corded muscles and musky smells and the scratch of five o'clock 

shadow.

This was about shared ordeals, and salty tears, and some twisted sense 

of destiny.

This was about growing up.

His arms tightened around me, his hands beginning to spread across my 

back, down to my hips.  God.  I pulled away from him slightly.  He made 

a surprised sound deep in his throat but didn't protest.

I tried to compose myself, tried to stop being Lisa and reassert myself as

Commander Hayes, but then I looked into his face and had to grin.  The entire 

time he had been urging me not to cry he had been crying himself, and 

now his blue eyes were bloodshot and puffy, his normally pale skin marred 

by blotches of red.

"What?" he asked, indignant as always.

My grin widened, and I was amazed at how light my heart felt suddenly.  

"You look awful."

He drew in his breath in shock, then let it out with a laugh.  "You've looked 

better yourself."

And then we both just started laughing, luxuriating in the freedom of it, the 

way it managed to erase, for a short time, all the pain and anger and loss.

And that was when he kissed me.

I can't recall exactly how it happened, and right now I hate that every 

moment of the experience isn't imprinted on my mind.  I do remember that 

one second we were laughing and smiling and the next his lips were 

on mine, searching, even trembling.  I opened my mouth to him and felt 

the touch of his tongue, exploring my mouth, filling my senses.  His 

hands tangled in my hair, his wiry body pressed urgently against me.  

The world stopped.  I couldn't breathe anything but his breath.

And then he pulled away.  I gasped, fought back the sudden feeling of panic.  

I waited for him to run out the door as fast as his legs could carry him, to 

run toward Minmei with guilt in his heart and a confession already forming 

on his lips.

But he didn't do that.  Instead he kissed me softly on the forehead and said 

that he should leave.  That he wanted to stay but didn't think he should.  

That he didn't think that either of us was ready, didn't feel that either of us 

could handle it just now.  I knew that wasn't completely true; I had been

ready, more than ready, for months.  But I could see the turmoil on his face, 

the warring factions of his heart fighting for dominance.  So I nodded and 

lied and told him he was right, and that I'd see him in the morning.

He's gone now.  I'm alone, again.

It's the way things have to be.  For now.

end.


End file.
